3. Jared

3

JARED

AGED 14

I glare at Aria from the couch as she fidgets with that dumb friendship bracelet from Lisa. She's such a loser, getting worked up over stupid kid stuff.

"What's wrong, Aria? Afraid I'll ruin your precious little bracelet?" I sneer.

Her big brown eyes widen with fear as she clutches the bracelet. God, she's so pathetic. Can't even handle a little teasing from her stepbrother.

I rise from the couch and stalk toward her.She shrinks back, trembling. Part of me hates how much I enjoy seeing her squirm.

"Leave me alone, Jared," she whimpers, tears welling in her eyes.

I lean in close until our faces are just inches apart. She flinches, making herself as small as possible.

"Or what?" I challenge. "You gonna cry to your mom again? Like that ever does anything."

The tears spill over as she shakes her head mutely. My eyes are drawn to the pulse fluttering rapidly in her throat as she struggles not to break down. She's so easy to torment. It's almost boring at this point.

Part of me hates myself for being so cruel. Beneath the bravado, a side of me has always liked Aria despite how much I cover it up. The thought makes me sick and fills me with burning shame.

So I lash out, channeling all that self-loathing into viciousness toward her. If I'm repulsed by these twisted feelings, at least I can make her life miserable, too.

I clench my fists, ignoring the twisted tangle of emotions. Part of me wants to lash out, to hurt her, and make her feel as small and powerless as I do. But there's another part I loathe that aches to reach out and comfort her, to eradicate that fear.

I hate that part of myself. It's weak, pathetic—a shameful vulnerability. So I double down on the cruelty, using it as a shield to hide my true feelings.

"Aw, is the little princess gonna cry?" I taunt. "Go ahead, run to Mommy. See if that does you any good."

Aria shrinks further against the wall, her shoulders trembling as she fights back sobs. I should feel satisfied, triumphant even. Instead there's a hollow ache and desperate need to make her stop crying, to see her smile again.

Furious at myself, I lash out and snatch the bracelet from her hand. Aria lets out a strangled cry, reaching for it futilely as I dangle it out of her reach.

"Give it back!" she pleads. "Please, Jared, it's important to me!"

I scoff, turning the bracelet over in my fingers. "What's so special about this stupid thing, anyway?"

Deep down, I know exactly why it's important to her. It symbolizes her friendship with Lisa. Something I can never be a part of. And that's what really pisses me off—the fact that she has someone else who cares about her, someone who can make her smile in a way I can't.

She's like a lost little rabbit, all big eyes and trembling. I loathe how she makes me feel something akin to protectiveness. It's disgusting, this softness I sense toward her. I want to crush it, stomp it out like a burning ember that threatens to expose my darkest thoughts. So I push harder, needing to see her crumble.

"Stop being such a baby," I snap. "It's just a stupid piece of string. You'll get over it."

The cracks form in her fragile composure, and I know I'm hitting her where it hurts. Her whole body is shaking now, and for a split second, I imagine wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close, whispering that everything will be okay.

But that thought makes my skin crawl because, along with this weird urge to comfort her, there's something darker and far more disturbing. I think about her when I'm alone in my room, touching myself, picturing her, those big brown eyes of hers looking up at me. It's sick. So fucked up. Especially since she's my stepsister. I try to push those thoughts away, but they keep returning like a virus infecting my mind.

Not to mention, I don't want or need anyone. I didn't need my mom when I was growing up since I fucking looked after her. And dad abandoned me when I was five to chase a better woman, leaving me with that bitch. I didn't need him either.

So, I have to be cruel. I have to hurt Aria to keep her at a distance. Because the alternative is not an option. I grip the bracelet hard, squeezing until the thin thread cuts into my palm.

"Give it back, Jared!" Aria's voice rises.

"Or what?" I snarl, stepping closer. "What are you gonna do about it?"

She raises her gaze to meet mine, and I see a spark of defiance. It stirs something within—a twisted lust. I'm suddenly aware of how small she is and how easily I could overpower her. The thought triggers a wave of heat.

Then, as quickly as it appears, the defiance is gone. She looks away, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Just give it back, please," she whispers.

I hesitate, my fingers curled tightly around the bracelet, a twisted part of me savoring this moment of dominance. And beneath it all, a sick, simmering desire that I hate myself for.

I stare at the bracelet in my hand, my thoughts spiraling into a dark, twisted place. Aria's still sniffling, those big eyes of hers glistening with tears. God, she's beautiful when she cries. The thought hits me like a punch to the gut, and I hate myself for it. But I can't look away.

My fingers tighten around the bracelet. I want to rip it apart, strand by strand. To watch her face crumple as I destroy this stupid symbol of her friendship with Lisa. Because when Aria cries, when she's broken and vulnerable, she's mine. All mine.

The urge to comfort her battles with the desire to hurt her more. I want to wrap her in my arms, to feel her body against mine. But I also want to make her sob, to hear those little hitching breaths she makes when she's trying not to fall apart completely.

"You're pathetic," I snarl. "Crying over a piece of string. You know what? I should just?—"

"Jared!"

I whirl around to see Elaine, Aria's mom, standing in the doorway.

"Give that back to your sister right now," she demands, her voice sharp.

For a moment, I consider refusing. I imagine snapping the bracelet, watching it fall to the floor in pieces.

But Elaine's glare doesn't waver. With a scowl, I toss the bracelet at Aria's feet.

"Whatever," I mutter, shoving past Elaine and out of the room. As I retreat, I can't shake the image of Aria's tear-stained face from my mind. It haunts me, a twisted mix of desire and self-loathing that I know will follow me into my dreams.